Desperation
by xXxXLupicideXxXx
Summary: France catches Spain in an act of desperation during the years of hunger. WARNINGS: Prostitution, starvation and dick in mouth. Co-authored with a stranger that I lost contact with on Omegle... [Oneshot]


'The years of hunger' during Franco's reign had not been good years for Spain, who starved as his people did. And as he got down on his knees he still couldn't believe how low he'd become, but he'd crumbled... Desperate enough to do anything for money to put food on the table. The man was old and fat, liked pulling his hair and making him gag to the point were tears ran down his face. He wanted to vomit, but if he did that he wouldn't get paid and he'd once again be kept from the sustinance he needed to survive... The old man groaned as he came in the Spaniard's mouth, the starving brunette left to cough and sputter when he failed to swallow it properly. The john threw his payment on the ground as he tucked himself back in his pants and walked off, leaving the whore pick it up as he wiped a dribble of cum from the corner of his mouth. But unforfortunately for the Spaniard, in getting up to leave he spotted a familiar face and realised that they'd been watching the whole time. Immediately he froze.

"Spain?" France looked at the Spaniard just dumbfounded. "What is going on here?!" He waited for a response and walked up to him and gave him a cloth. "Spit it out onto this." He looked at him. France was so confused to as what he just witnessed.

The Iberian nation looked away, not meeting the blonde's eyes. "No need..." He managed to say, although a bit choked. He'd already wiped away what he hadn't swallowed... What was someone even supposed to say in such a situation?

"Come with me." He took his hand and walked with him to his hotel room. He opened a safe and grabbed about three stacks of money. He gave it to him. "Here use it for what you need." He looked at him. "You are the only thing I care about in this world."

The brunette's eyes widened, his jaw nearly scraping the ground. "F-Francia, I can't...!" Mierda, that was a lot of cash. "I-I'm not going to drag you down with me..."

"Non, don't worry about it." He smiled and handed the money to him. "Espagne, I want you to become a prideful nation like you once were. If you need to stay with me to do that then so be it." Nothing was going to change France's mind. "Just promise me you will become the country of Passion again."

Spain just stood there dumbstruck for a moment, before lying through his teeth. "Francia, I-I'll be fine... /Really./" Perhaps it was the pride that came with being a former empire, but for some reason he just couldn't accept it.

"Take it." He smiled and put it in his hands and closed Spain's hands around the money. "I want you to be great again. More importantly I want you to be my Spain again." He hugged him tightly.

The brunette returned the hug, breaking down sobbing in the Frenchman's arms. He hated Franco so much right now, though not just because of the anger and outrage of the Spanish people. He hated that he'd managed to stoop so low that the blonde had been able to witness him do something like that.

He smiled. "Espagne. Do not cry for I know what you are thinking." He rubbed his back. "Why don't you sleep with me tonight and I will make you a grand meal ment for a king." He looked at him.

The Iberian just nodded, burying his face in the other's shirt and giving up on trying to told himself together. He'd let France do what he wanted for now, but maybe that was because he was fairly used to letting people do what they wanted with him by now...

He smiled and sat Spain on his bed. He started to wash his hands and started cooking. "What are you in the mood for?" He waited.

"Anything." Replied the Spaniard honestly. He hadn't eaten in days, it was becoming harder to find johns who'd take him with how skinny he was becoming... The fat old man that he'd sucked off earlier having laughed at him and called him a scrawny runt. He'd eat almost anything put in front of him now, even Inglaterra's scones.

He made him a high fat meal that was sure to bounce Spain back to his old self. After it was done he set the table and made him a plate. "Here."

The Spaniard dug in ravenously, complete disregard for any manners at all. A quick, but incredibly heart-felt 'gracias' being gasped between heaped mouthfuls.

He chuckled and ate. "De rien, mon chere." He continued to eat and watched him.

The brunette finished quickly, barely pausing but to catch breath and making himself ill from eating so quickly. It was a good kind of sick though, one that he hadn't felt in a while... And one that was certainly better than wanting to vomit at getting on his knees for a stranger.

"Was it good?" He finished eating. "So how about you tell me what happened to you."

It was beyond the younger why France had to ask, as he'd always been a good cook. "Si." He replied, the first small smile that his face had seen in a long time spreading across his face. The other question though, he didn't answer in an effort to avoid the inevitable answer he'd have to give.

He smiled and got up. "Don't worry about dishes." He smiled and put what was left away. France yawned. "Tired as well?" He looked at him.

The Iberian nodded again. "Si, a bit..." He answered, silently grateful that the blonde hadn't pressed any further. "Where'd all that money come from anyway...?"

He chuckled. "I saved it up." He looked at him. "Get in the bed." He hopped onto it.

Spain followed, closing his eyes and letting out a pleased sound of comfort. This bed was much nicer than his own, soft and fluffy instead of cheap and springy.

He chuckled and turned out the light. "Night." He smiled and pulled up the blanket and fell asleep.

The first half of the night the younger nation slept soundly thanks to the comfy bed, but even the heavenly bed couldn't keep the night terrors away forever. Most nations had them every now and then, though not every night as Spain had since he'd started selling himself. Not all the johns played nice...

He held onto Spain as he was asleep. France was known to cuddle a bit. He held the Spaniards hand,

The nightmares faded, but still the smile from earlier did not return to the brunette's face. He woke up early, looking at the stack of money on the bedside table as if taking it would poison his friend... Maybe he could leave before the other rose from slumber? He didn't move though, appreciating being the recipient of affection that didn't make him gag for once.

He was heavily asleep and wasn't going to move any time soon. Francis left his contact number next to Spain's money.

Slipping from the other's arms gently, the younger nation got up to leave a bit reluctantly. He didn't take the money, a warm meal and soft bed more than he could ask for in the first place... And walking back onto the streets he began to think. How long would be keep doing this? What if it hadn't have been France who'd found him? What would Prusia and Romano say if they knew...? These questions did nothing but cause his frown to deepen, wishing that he didn't already know the answers.


End file.
